Chapter 30 Veda
VEDA
My tongue was virtually frozen after eating a half gallon of mint chocolate chip to try to stave off the worst of my depression.
Regan was tending bar, otherwise she'd have been at my house in stained sweats eating pizza and letting me vent to her.
No way in heck was I ever going into that bar again, not after the way Clayton treated me before. I had to find a new job.
I sat on my couch feeling too sad and lethargic to move a muscle after three days of job searching and crying.
I hadn’t heard from Clayton, but I wasn't stupid enough to believe that he'd forget about what I owed him.
And the only one from Locke Global who had called me or anything was Sherise from HR, who just wanted to let me know my last check would be deposited on Monday.
And just like that, my life changed.
Asher was gone—who even knew how bad of a bender he'd gone on.
My job was over, no chance I'd get back into that company for sure, and they probably sent out a memo to every investment firm in the city to not hire me.
And I wasn't going back to The Pub. It left me feeling hollow inside, a shell of my former self.
The news bored me. There were no good movies on. And when I moved toward the kitchen to throw away the empty ice cream container, someone knocked at my door.
It was a little late for visitors, but not late enough to believe it was Regan after work. This time of night, no one just knocked on your door except the police, which I was certain would not happen to me. But I stalked over and looked through the peep hole.
There in the hallway outside my apartment stood Asher Locke.
He looked miserable, red, puffy eyes that were blood shot, with bags under them that bulged out obscenely.
His shirt hung open, and his hair was sticking up at odd angles.
He looked foul, like maybe he smelled off or hadn't showered in days, and I wasn't sure why he'd even show up here.
Part of me wanted to stay behind that door and just admire how handsome he was, even as a drunken wreck—because it seemed obvious to me that he'd been drinking.
When you're a bartender for as long as I had been, you notice these things.
But another part of me desperately wanted his arms around me, which of course won out over hesitancy.
I pulled the door open and stood there gawking at him. What was I supposed to say? The last time I saw him, he'd told me to leave and never speak to him again. Now he stood on my welcome mat wasted and disheveled.
"Can I come in?" he said in an angry tone, so I backed up a few steps, letting him pass.
He stalked right to my living room and slumped onto the couch as if he owned the place, which was mortifying considering the pile of used tissues and the takeout containers sitting around the place.
I scurried to clean a few up before perching in my armchair, out of his reach.
"Do you want some water or…" Just looking at him made my heart feel like a ton of bricks.
"I'm fine, thanks," he grunted and to my surprise, I didn't smell alcohol on him. Though he looked like a wreck all the same.
"How are you doing?" I had no right to ask him that. Asher was hurting. It was obvious, given his appearance, and I was the one who had hurt him. But I loved him, and I cared how he was doing.
He looked up at me with pain in his expression and shook his head. "Twenty-four hours sober… Again."
Tears welled up, but I forced them back because it wasn't my place to share emotion right now. He didn’t show up to pity me. I didn't know why he was here. I thought he hated me.
"Are you angry with me?" I asked softly, but I already knew the answer.
"I'm furious with you, Veda, but as part of my recovery, I have to listen to you. I can't move past this and heal and stay sober until I know the facts…" His eyes were burning, fire shooting at me so hot, I could feel that anger. I had to blink harder to keep the tears back.
But I wanted to give him whatever it was that helped him be sober. If that was answers, then I wanted him to have them.
"Start talking?" he said, lifting his eyebrows impatiently.
"Yes, okay," I told him, swiping at one tear that escaped.
I told him everything, about how I was struggling in debt and Clayton came along with all that money.
How I took it, not knowing anything about him but desperate for relief.
Then I told him how Regan scolded me and I felt awful, and how from the very instant I met him, I knew he needed help, not more pain.
"Asher, you have to believe me, if I could've given his money back at any second just to spare you this pain, I'd have done it. I took the money, but the instant I met you, I knew it was a horrible choice."
His face contorted and he rubbed both hands over his eyes and then down over his mouth. "How could you do that to me?" he said, but it was a tone of utter brokenness. He felt betrayed and rejected, not angry. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
Tears flowed freely now and I shook as I continued.
"He had this recording of me saying what I'd do. It didn’t matter that I hated myself for what was happening.
He kept threatening me, and I fought him.
I swear to God I did. Asher, I loved you.
I fell in love and I fought your brother, but he had this dirt on me, and then he was planning to hurt you on purpose without me, so I—"
His hand touched mine, then his other. He leaned forward and clasped both of my hands together in his as he, himself, shed a few tears. When I looked into his eyes I saw my Asher, the one who made me believe his whole world stopped revolving when I was near him.
"Was it real, Veda?" He paused, squeezing my hands. "Any of it? Our time together, the way you spoke to me, the sex… Was it real for you or just part of the act?"
Forget crying—I was sobbing, great heaving gulps of air that shook my body as I slid to my knees and draped myself over his lap in an ugly cry so loud I was sure my neighbors heard me. He let me stay there for a moment until I had better control of myself.
Then I responded, "Yes, Asher. Every bit of it was real.
It's real. I'm real." I rubbed my eye with one hand as I knelt in front of him.
"That first day when you almost kissed me shattered any illusion I had that I could do what your brother wanted me to do.
And every second after that, all I wanted was to take care of you. "
His forehead furrowed, mouth pouting slightly. "And you're pregnant… Did you plan that?"
"Baby, no…" I shook my head and continued.
"I would never do that. I insisted that we use protection, remember?
I wasn't wanting a baby so young. You just made me lose control and those first few times we…
" I let my words trail off as more tears flooded his cheeks.
I felt like it was my fault. "I just kept it from you because Clayton would've weaponized it after hearing about your baby. I couldn't let him do that."
Asher sobbed now, kissing my hands fiercely. "I wanted to be a father… Want… to be."
"I know, baby," I said, careful not to make any assumptions.
"And you are going to be, and you'll be the best dad ever.
And I know it's hard and I'm the worst person ever. It doesn’t mean we have to be together or anything.
We'll have joint custody or something, and I'll pay Clayton back, even if it takes me ten years. "
He lowered our hands and then let go of mine to wipe his face. "Thank you for speaking to the board on my behalf."
"Asher, that never should've had to happen. You did nothing wrong. I was just setting the record straight." My heart was ready to burst. "I love you more than anything, you know. Even if you never took me back, I want you to be happy and succeed. And I want you to—"
Asher's hands cupped both of my cheeks and pulled me in to the most scorching kiss we'd ever shared.
His mouth parted, and I let him search me with his tongue.
I wasn't prepared for any of this, but I wasn't going to tell him to stop.
I needed him like the desert needs rain, more than the air I breathed.
"I'm so angry with you, Veda Porter… so furious I could scream," he said between kisses that continued to steal my breath. "But I'd rather be angry with you and have you than be angry alone. I need you in my life."
His words only brought more tears for both of us, but he didn't back away.
If anything, the kiss intensified to the point I was starting to feel my body wake up.
His hands slid from my face to rest on my sides where he pulled me closer, so I crawled forward until I knelt between his knees and his hands gripped my butt firmly.
"Don't stay mad at me forever…" I breathed when his mouth left mine and his teeth raked down my neck.
Asher pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes dark and glassy with unshed tears. “I’m not letting you go, Veda,” he whispered hoarsely. "But you’re going to have to earn your way back into my good graces. Do you understand?”
I nodded, quickly understanding what he was saying. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” His thumb brushed my lower lip as his eyes darted around my face, drinking in my willing expression.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, but I didn't dare let myself smile, though my heart was exploding with joy.
His breath hitched. “That’s my good girl. Now, stand up for me.”
I rose on shaky legs. He stayed seated, hands sliding to my hips, guiding me between his spread thighs.
“Take the sweater off,” he said softly. “Slowly… Let me watch.”
I grasped the hem and peeled it upward, inch by inch, until it cleared my head. I wore nothing beneath but a thin lace bra. Cool air chilled my skin but his gaze warmed everything else.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Now the bra. Hands behind your back when you do it.”